The Upper Crust
by Red Witch
Summary: Cheryl decides to make an impression on high society. She does, but not the way she intended.


** The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters is in a magazine somewhere. Just some more madness from my tiny little brain. **

**The Upper Crust **

The latest disaster started innocently enough. With the gang wanting to go to a bar. Well most of them.

"Oh, come on Lana," Pam pouted. "Come to Pita Margarita's with us! Some of the new bartenders are splooshable!"

"Yeah even **you** might have a chance with some of them," Cheryl looked up from the magazine she was reading in the bullpen.

"Sorry guys I can't," Lana sighed. "I am going to be too busy to even **think **about a night out!"

"What could **you** possibly be doing on a Friday night?" Cheryl asked. "Besides making giant molds of your hands as models for the latest monster movie?"

Lana told them. "After picking up AJ from school I have to take her to our Mommy Mermaid swimming class. After that we're going straight to a birthday party at Pizza Palace with one of AJ's classmates. Then we have to go straight to bed to get ready for tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Pam asked.

Lana added. "We're going to a Breakfast with Bach at the school. It's where children AJ's age listen to classical music while eating nutritious meals. Then after that I go with AJ's class and the parents to a weekend mini-field trip to the Children's Science museum. After **that **we go to a Toddler Tap class slash birthday party for **another one** of AJ's classmates. And on Sunday we go to another birthday party at the aquarium!"

"Holy schedule snacks," Pam gasped. "That's a lot of birthday parties."

"Good thing so many toy stores have been closing this year," Cheryl was stunned.

Lana sighed. "My daughter is only three and already she has a better social life than I do."

"Forget you!" Cheryl realized. "She has a better social life than **me**!"

"That is shocking," Pam said. "Seeing how rich you are."

"You're right!" Cheryl said. "I'm a Tunt! I should be doing something glamourous! When a dumb three-year-old is more popular than I am, something is definitely wrong!"

"AJ isn't dumb!" Lana barked. "She's invited to more parties this weekend than you have been in months! Unlike you, **she knows** what she's doing."

"AAAAGGHHH!" Cheryl ran out of the room screaming.

Pam remarked. "Nice one."

"It was a cheap shot but I had to take it," Lana said. "It's very rare that I'm able to make her scream."

"Usually it's the other way around," Pam nodded.

Later that day…

"You want us to do **what**?" Cyril asked. The majority of the Figgis Agency was in the bullpen. (Minus Archer and Mallory of course.)

"I need you guys to be my entourage tonight," Cheryl said.

"For Pita Margaritas?" Pam asked.

"Pita Margaritas is going to have to wait," Cheryl said. "Besides, there's a better party we're going to tonight."

"What party?" Ray asked.

Cheryl handed him a flyer. "The Philistine's Society Annual Ball at the Four Seasons."

"The Philistine's Society Ball?" Ray gasped.

"That's one of the swankiest upper crust parties you can get in LA!" Pam whistled. "How the hell are we gonna crash that joint?"

"Relax," Cheryl waved. "As a Tunt I have unlimited access to practically every high society party there is. And the rest of you will just come at my entourage. I mean Bunny Van Houten Smith once came to this party with thirty people and twelve dogs. Nobody batted an eye! I'm sure I can squeeze you guys in."

"What brought this on?" Lana asked.

"What we talked about this morning made me think. I need to reclaim my status as a Tunt," Cheryl said. "And the first step is to get into The Upper Crust."

"I would have thought your first step would be rehab," Cyril remarked.

"The Upper Crust is this ultra-exclusive high society magazine for the elite and the wealthiest people in the country," Cheryl explained. "My Great-Great Grandfather was literally the first person on the cover of the first magazine they had! Practically half of my family has had a featured article in it. Including my parents. Now it's my turn! Well technically to get back in that magazine. I was in it once before."

"You were?" Cyril asked.

"A long time ago. I haven't been in that magazine since my debutante ball," Cheryl said. "But for some reason my parents never let me see that article."

Oh, there was a reason.

For starters the article was entitled Debut-Don'ts.

And the main picture of the article was of Cheryl laughing while the punch bowl was on fire.

There were other pictures as well. Cheryl drinking, clearly inebriated. Another picture of Cheryl giving the middle finger to a chaperone. Another picture of Cheryl attacking another debutante. And yet another picture of Cheryl in her bra, slip and panties dancing on a table.

The final picture was of Cheryl biting the ear of a security officer as she was being dragged away.

Needless to say, the reviews of that particular debutante ball were not exactly glowing ones.

Let's flash forward to this particular impending disaster, shall we?

"Okay we're all going to Lordstrom's and buy the newest flashiest dresses and tuxedoes," Cheryl said. "We can even get our hair and makeup done while we're there. Then we can get one of my company limos to take us to the party from there. I'm buying."

Pam held up her hand. "Can we keep the clothes?"

"Yes," Cheryl said. "And the shoes and the jewelry."

"I'm in!" Pam grinned.

"Me too," Ray nodded.

"Yup, yup, yup," Krieger nodded.

"As much as I'd love the opportunity for Cheryl to spend money on me," Lana admitted. "I think I'll stay out of this one."

"Good plan," Ray remarked. "We need someone to call in case we need bail."

Fast forward to later that evening…

"Now this is living!" Pam grinned as she drank champagne from the bottle. Her hair was done up and she was wearing a gorgeous full-length blue dress with some diamond earrings and a necklace.

"I gotta admit," Cyril nodded as he drank champagne from the glass. "This is nice." He and all the other men were in smart fashionable black tuxedos.

Ray noticed something. "Cheryl, honey don't you think you should slow down a bit?"

Cheryl was wearing a red dress with her hair up. She wore a glittering diamond tiara with diamond earrings and a diamond and ruby necklace. She was also drinking out of the bottle. "I'm fine!" Cheryl waved as she downed some groovy bears. "Just fine."

"Cheryl," Ray said. "That's your second bottle of champagne. Your third packet of groovy bears. And your fourth LSD breath strip."

"Shows what you know," Cheryl scoffed. "These are regular breath strips. "Besides I don't need the LSD breath strips. I just took a couple of pills and I feel great."

"Pills?" Cyril asked. "What kind of pills? Krieger what kind of pills did you give her?"

"I didn't!" Krieger told him. "I swear!"

"Relax," Cheryl waved. "They were just a couple of aspirin I swiped from Ms. Archer's purse. At least I think they were aspirin."

"Cheryl!" Pam snapped. "Don't you know by now that Ms. Archer switches the labels on her pill bottles? She could have had anything in there!"

"That woman still has drugs leftover from spending time with Timothy Leary!" Ray agreed. "You could have taken anything!"

"This limo does have a stomach pump, right?" Krieger asked.

"Relax," Cheryl waved. "Relax. I'm fine. I'm fine. I **am!**"

"Are you sure?" Pam asked. "You have that same look in your eyes the last time you thought you were a werewolf."

"I'm **not **a werewolf, Pam!" Cheryl scoffed. "I know that **now**! God! You bite a couple of people and howl at the full moon a few times and nobody ever lets you forget it. I'm fine. Trust me."

"This is going to turn into an Afterschool Special isn't it?" Ray asked.

"Looks like," Cyril remarked.

"I'm going to be fine," Cheryl said. "Just let me do the talking. Trust me. I've been to like a hundred of these things. All I have to do is put on the charm and every one of those stupid rich people will be eating out of my hand. Not literally of course. Figuratively. It's good I know the difference now."

"Too bad you can't figure out the difference between being sober and soused," Cyril remarked.

"Sobriety is so overrated," Cheryl waved. "I need a buzz so I can loosen up!"

"If you were any looser, you'd fall apart," Pam said.

"Just relax and follow my lead," Cheryl waved as they arrived. "Showtime."

Cheryl effortlessly glided out of the limo. There were paparazzi taking pictures. "Cheryl! Cheryl! Cheryl!" They called out to her.

"Hello boys!" Cheryl posed gracefully as they took her picture. A handsome man loomed up to her. "Ooh, where did **you **come from?"

"Right this way mademoiselle…" He said in a charming voice.

"Don't mind if I do," Cheryl said as she took his hand. He guided her into the ballroom.

All eyes were on her as she entered. She stepped away from the charming man and basked in the glow of attention. "Hello Darlings…" She purred.

She could hear people whispering all around her. "It's her! It's Cheryl Tunt! It's the Tunt woman! I don't **believe **it! The Tunt woman is here! Oh…I don't believe it."

"Believe it, darlings!" Cheryl waved elegantly as she sauntered into the room. The crowd tittered in delight. "It's me. I'm here."

Music played as Cheryl glided across the room. She ended up in front of the band playing for the crowd. "Look who's here!" She smiled at the bandleader. "Hello Louis!"

"Well hello Cheryl!" Louis the bandleader grinned in his gravely voice. _"It's nice to have you back where you belong!"_

"I am so glad to be back," Cheryl waved her hands.

_"You're looking swell, Cheryl!"_ Louis sang. _"I can tell Cheryl!"_

"Oh Louis…" Cheryl purred as Louis escorted her around the room as he serenaded her. _"Be be de de do…"_

_"Show some snap fellas!"_ Louie sang as several well-dressed waiters in red came up to Cheryl.

"Find me an empty lap fellas!" Cheryl called out.

_"Cheryl will never go away again!"_ Louis sang as Cheryl began an elaborate choreographed dance with the waiters.

Cheryl danced among the many men. All eyes were upon her cheering. The music swelled as Cheryl danced with perfect timing. "_Wow, wow, wow fellas…"_ She sang. "_Look at this hot body now fellas!" _

_"Cheryl will never go away!"_ The waiters sang. _"Cheryl will never go away agaiiiinnn!" _

_ "I'll never go away aaagaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaainnn!" _Cheryl sang as she finished her number. Behind her someone lit up some fireworks to finish the number. She stood there in triumph of her social comeback.

Unfortunately for Cheryl, the whole thing was a complete and total delusion of her mind.

Here's what **really** happened.

For starters Cheryl staggered out of the limo. There were no paparazzi of course because this was an exclusive event and the wealthy had paid off the paparazzi to stay away. But there were several rich people with phones standing around talking and waiting to get in. Phones that recorded Cheryl falling face first into a bush.

"Cheryl!" Pam gasped.

"Cheryl!" Ray and Cyril said at the same time as they went to help her.

"Oh Cheryl…" Krieger snickered as he recorded the whole thing on his phone.

"Oooh," Cheryl giggled as she was face first into a bush. "Where did **you** come from?"

"Okay Cheryl," Ray said as he helped Cyril pick her up. "Here we go. Upsie-Daisy!"

"Don't mind if I do," Cheryl twittered with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Cyril asked. "She's clearly not in her right mind."

"Cheryl is **never** in her right mind," Pam said. "Besides I'm not leaving until I get some of those fancy appetizers. I wonder if they have mini-quiches?"

Cheryl broke away and wobbled into the ballroom. "HELLO DUMBASSES!" Cheryl shouted at the top of her lungs.

Everyone in the ballroom glared at her. "Nice way to make an entrance," Ray winced.

"Who the devil is that?" An older man sniffed.

"It's Cheryl Tunt!" One woman gasped. "What the devil is **she **doing here?"

"It's the Tunt Woman!" Another woman gasped. "Who invited the **Tunt woman?" **

"I don't believe it," A man groaned. "I thought that woman was locked in the mental institution!"

"I thought she was dead," Another man said.

"No, just her social life," A woman told him.

"Hello!" Cheryl walked around. Waving wildly. "Hello! Hello!"

She happened to walk into several people, pushing them aside but not even noticing. "Well! Really!" One woman huffed.

She even walked into a waiter and knocked him over. The waiter collided with an older heavyweight woman who was soon covered in appetizers.

"Hey crab puffs!" Pam said as she picked some of the appetizers off the woman. "Not bad. Could use some sauce."

"Really!" The older woman huffed. "This is outrageous!"

"Oh yeah," Pam snapped. "Like **you **never picked up a spilled appetizer before!"

"Lana is going to be so pissed she missed this," Krieger remarked as he recorded everything with his phone.

"Something tells me she'll be happy just to see the footage," Cyril groaned. "What's she doing **now**?"

Cheryl was staring at a plant in the corner giggling. "I have no idea," Ray sighed. "Oh, she's on the move again."

"Speaking of which," Pam looked around. "You see any waiters with mini-quiches?"

Cheryl then began to laugh. Then awkwardly kick her feet out while waving her arms around the room. "Hello! Hello!" Cheryl kept moving around knocking over another waiter, forcing him to spill drinks onto another couple.

"AAHH!" A young man gasped as he was covered in punch. "My new jacket!"

"Oh God it's Cheryl!" A young woman Cheryl's age groaned.

_"I'm looking swell…Cheryl…"_ Cheryl hiccupped toddling away oblivious.

"Go to **hell**, Cheryl!" The young woman snapped. "I moved to California to get away from you crazy Tunts!"

_"Doo…de…dooo…"_ Cheryl giggled drunkenly as she kicked and waved her arms. "Find me an empty lap fellas! HAAAAA!"

"Why is she waving her arms like **that?**" Cyril asked. "And kicking her legs?"

"It looks like she's trying to imitate a wind-up toy," Krieger remarked.

"I think she's trying to recreate Hello Dolly," Ray blinked.

Cheryl absently kicked a well-dressed man in the leg. He cried out in pain and without thinking put his hand on a well-endowed woman to steady himself. Unfortunately for him he didn't see where his hand landed. But her date did.

"Hands off!" The gentleman bellowed before punching the other man onto a table which broke. People screamed and scattered.

Cheryl just absently danced along kicking and accidentally hitting an occasional person. "She's no Barbara I'll tell you that," Ray remarked.

"Not even close to Carol," Krieger added.

"This is bad," Cyril winced.

"The dancing yeah," Pam was eating off a tray she had stolen from a waiter. "That's pretty bad. However, these caviar stuffed cheese puffs are pretty good."

"OW!" A man yelled as Cheryl casually hit him. "Will you **go away?"**

_"Cheryl will never go away!"_ Cheryl screamed at the top of her lungs. She flung out her arms and screamed some more indistinguishable words at the top of her lungs.

Unfortunately for her she was close to a table which had some large candelabras on them. She accidentally hit one of them. The candelabra flew off and ignited some drapes nearby. Which proved to be extremely flammable.

"Of course," Cyril sighed. "Even when she doesn't mean to do it, Cheryl sets a fire!"

"It's starting to become predictable at this point," Ray sighed as several waiters ran towards the fire with extinguishers to try and put the blaze out.

"It is one of her more interesting fires," Krieger remarked as Cheryl twirled around laughing. "I wonder what she's on? Remind me to do a blood test later."

"Assuming she's not in police custody by then," Cyril groaned.

Cheryl giggled twirling around with her arms out. Completely ignorant of the fire she made, let alone it being put out. Then she tripped and fell backwards onto a table which had a huge cake on it.

"Well that's just a waste of good cake," Pam sighed.

"De, deee, deeeee…" Cheryl giggled as cake was all over her hair and body.

"We should go," Cyril gulped.

"Not before we get some appetizers," Pam said. "HEY! YOU WITH THE MINI QUICHES! CAN WE GET A DOGGY BAG FOR OUR FRIEND HERE? HER BLOOD SUGAR IS A LITTLE LOW!"

The following Monday…

"I can't believe I missed that," Lana finished looking at the video on Krieger's phone in the bullpen. "I mean I'm glad I did but I can't believe it…"

"Cheryl really made an impression all right," Krieger remarked. "I still don't know what she took."

"Well if it was from Mallory's purse," Lana sighed. "It's probably for the best. What happened when Cheryl regained her sanity? Or at least her version of it?"

"She doesn't remember a damn thing," Ray said. "Well most of it. She thinks she went to a party and everyone loved her. But she doesn't remember what day or what happened or if we were even there."

"I wish we weren't," Cyril moaned.

"Hey we got some free clothes, shoes and jewelry," Pam said. "And those appetizers weren't half bad. And she did make the cover of Upper Crust."

"But I'm guessing not the way she intended," Lana said.

"I intercepted it before Cheryl could see it," Pam said as she took the magazine out. "And since she had a bender last night and is currently passed out on the copier…"

"She'll be out for a good while," Cyril finished. "Hopefully for a few days."

"Good thing you did," Lana winced as she saw the magazine. "Oh, that is **not** a good picture."

"She's had better," Pam admitted.

The cover was of Cheryl with her eyes closed, her mouth open, arms up in the air and the drapes on fire behind her. "Nothing But The Tunt…" Lana read. "The shocking true story about the decline of once great American Dynasty."

"This does not bode well," Ray said dryly.

"It doesn't," Pam sighed. "Basically, the article describes some of Cheryl's antics as well as her disastrous turn out at the Philistine's Ball."

Lana looked at the article. "Apparently her debutante ball didn't go that well either."

Ray read over Lana's shoulder. "According to the article Cheryl has been permanently banned from not only the Philistine's Ball but nearly every other high society function in LA. Well that's something."

"How is that a _good thing_?" Cyril snapped.

"It's good for us," Ray said. "We don't have to go to them."

Cyril blinked. "That is good news."

"I'm in this too!" Pam pointed. "They took my picture!"

There was a picture of Pam with a tray of quiche in one hand and holding up an unconscious Cheryl in the other. Pam was smiling while Cheryl was snoring and covered in cake. "Pam Poovey, a sympathetic friend helps Cheryl in her time of need," Lana read the caption.

"That is a nice picture," Ray said.

"I think it's one of my better ones," Pam nodded.

"Ooh speaking of pictures," Cyril noticed something. "They have a few more. Her mug shot for one!"

"And the time she was taken in for questioning for the Deadly Velvet incident for another," Krieger pointed.

"She does **not **look good with cornrows," Lana remarked as she read the article. "Oh great. They also have pictures of her during that Business Expo where she went nuts and drove around that car which spontaneously combusted."

"It also describes that whole House of Tunt debacle," Ray added. "And her short-lived horse-racing career. And the time she burned down a TV studio."

"Pam your picture is better than all of hers," Lana said. "One of the better ones."

"Thank you," Pam grinned. "I wonder if I can get a copy to send to my sister?"

"I'm sure they have an online article somewhere," Ray told her.

"Does it say anything about the Figgis Agency?" Cyril asked.

Lana looked at the article. "We've been described as little more than glorified babysitters whose job is to make sure Cheryl doesn't choke in her own vomit."

Ray paused. "That sounds about accurate."

"I'll take it," Cyril sighed.

Krieger remarked. "I'll give this to their writers; they sure do their research."

Ray sighed. "The moral of the story boys and girls is: Never take **anything** from Ms. Archer's purse."

"It's the final line of the article that gets me," Pam read. "If Cheryl Tunt is the future of this once great dynasty, it's clear to even the most fabricated fortune teller that it doesn't have one."

"Good call not letting Cheryl see this," Krieger nodded.

"I think we should save this one for when she's being a complete and total bitch," Ray said. "And she's a little more lucid."

"I don't want anybody we know seeing this!" Lana groaned.

"Oh please," Ray waved. "Who the hell do we know that has a subscription to this magazine? And even as I spoke the words…"

Meanwhile across town…

"I don't know why I'm shocked," Mallory sighed as she read the magazine while sitting next to her son's bedside. "Although I have to admit that is a nice picture of Pam. One of her better ones."


End file.
